lirik lagu space x – stanwill
[intro]
yeah, sh*ttyboyz dogsh*t militia, that’s on every song
b*tch
yeah, sh*ttyboyz dogsh*t militia, that’s on every song
(gavin on the beat)
what up, gavin?
phew, yeah
[verse]
four figure ‘fit, bet your b*tch let me smash with passion
russian rifle with the scope and a flash attachment
last night, i met the realest b*tch but her ass was plastic
you won’t catch me shootin’ ones, i be blastin’ gadgets
gang swingin’ sticks, lookin’ like the negro league
pockets fat as h*ll, b*tch, i’m touchin’ ceelo green
you would think i pulled the stick up out of bo3
think i’m beefin’ with the wimpy kid ’cause he don’t see no cheese
i stab the h*llcat and leave the street black
keep back, boy, this b*tch’ll blow you out your sneaks, jack
three flat, run into the pape’, might break a kneecap
three racks on a ‘fit, i know your b*tch gon’ peep that
catch him out in traffic—, leave his honda vacant
whole gang full of stars, we a constellation
double coffee cup up in the club, bro ain’t tryna waste it
big sh*tter, i ain’t never had no constipation
we can’t chit chat unless cash the topic
black chrome hoodie, black amiris, thought my ass was gothic
slide down and up the big f*cker, it get catastrophic
sp*ce x, i’m in the sp*ceship tryna stash the rocket
heard another n*gga hatin’, bought a new pole
you ain’t even steppin’, why the f*ck do you got shoes on?
fl!ck to sports mode, skrrt*skrrt, now the coupe gone
sh*ttyboyz dogsh*t militia, don’t get p**ped on
you won’t catch me in the club ‘less i’m in the section
ain’t believe in [?] triple s’s
xd, glock, or chop when i pick a weapon
i ain’t playin’ fruit ninja but i bet i split his melon
i’ll pop his ass by myself, don’t need no stunt double
i be with some flashy motherf*ckers, we don’t stunt humble
i know unky pourin’ wocky if his coffee cup double
i be tellin’ hoes to bring a friend, i only f*ck doubles
on some chill sh*t, five hundred on a dinner plate
on some chill sh*t, in the kitty doin’ figure eights
on some chill sh*t, b*tches know who got the bigger pape’
on some real sh*t, ain’t suckin’ d*ck, it’s the blender, bae
(on some real sh*t, ate a hundred on a field trip)
how the f*ck she blow me like a candle but i’m still lit?
why the f*ck i keep a toolie on me but don’t build sh*t?
your b*tch cheatin’ with me, you be thinkin’ she a real b*tch
everything you say up the booth, i know it’s fairy tale
boy, you know that b*tch stay by my side like i’m [?]
2022, i’m finna stack a dub for every l
know a couple rats inside your clique, y’all lookin’ very twelve
life like a toilet, n*ggas p*ssed ’cause that sh*t on me
every whip tinted through this b*tch, we ain’t fishbowlin’
tee by amiri, rain jacket made by rick owen
iced up, lookin’ like i’m in this b*tch swolen, ha
[outro]
yeah, sh*ttyboyz, dogsh*t militia, that’s on every song
b*tch
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